Speculative Fiction—an all-encompassing genre created to describe stories of science fiction, fantasy, alternate history, and other stories that have an element of “What if...” in them. A story in speculative fiction is one that adds an element of the unreal, or asks, what would become of our society if history took a different direction at some important event? Fiction with a little something extra thrown in.—William D. Richards

Tuesday, November 21, 2017

About Shattered Earth:

The scum of the galaxy are using Earth as a nuclear winter death camp.
It outrages pirate captain Kohia Jekyll’s sense of justice. No one
deserves to die agonizingly of radiation poisoning, especially not on
the planet humanity had to evacuate seven generations ago. So Kohia
intends to close the prison camp down.

She didn’t count on an infuriating shaman healer hitching a ride aboard her starship.

Nairo
Bloodstone isn’t going to Earth to be a hero. He learned the hard way
that when you’re a healer, doing your best for people is never enough.
One miracle leads them to demand another and another. Heroes die
exhausted and alone, and the galaxy continues with billions of people
still clamoring for a miracle-worker to save them.

No, Nairo isn't going to Earth to be a hero. He intends to change what it means to be human.

Excerpt:

“Kohia.”

Just her name, said in Nairo Bloodstone’s smooth voice, and the low
simmer of arousal in Kohia heated to real wanting. Damn him.

Nairo was the second man forced on the Stealth, and the one she’d
known she’d have no chance of refusing. He’d invited himself aboard
when he’d heard of her mission. “The chance for me to study Earth’s
sha energy flows will be invaluable to my research, especially with
shifters present.”

The Conclave had immediately agreed to his request. Hell, they’d
have agreed if he’d asked for a harem of hundreds and all the gold
on Corsairs. And with Corsairs main industry being piracy, that was
a lot of gold.

“Is that all your luggage?” Kohia looked at the duffel bag Nairo
carried, then frowned at his nod. The duffel bag was no larger than
Aaron’s crew satchel. Kohia wasn’t used to civilians being so
restrained. Then again, Nairo was the definition of control—which
strummed all of Kohia’s instincts in the naughtiest of ways. Down, girl.

She hadn’t realized that she’d moved to block his access to the
Stealth until he halted in front of her. She was tall. He was
taller. Nairo matched Aaron for height, although he lacked the
Freel’s heavily muscled build. Instead, Nairo had a lean, athletic
body that suggested speed and endurance.

He waited. Without a word, simply by being there, he challenged her
authority. Or perhaps it was more personal. He unnerved her.

She was captain of the Stealth, but she couldn’t deny him the right
to board. So she stepped to the side and gestured extravagantly.
“Welcome aboard, Shaman Bloodstone.” Her formality mocked him.

“Please introduce me to your crew as Nairo. Titles aren’t important
to me, Captain Jekyll.” She’d been “Kohia” to him a minute before.
Now he turned her formality back on her.

She leaned into the cargo hold. “Hami!”

“You bellowed?” But it wasn’t Hami who answered her shout. The
Stealth’s engineer, Augustus Clarke, emerged wiping his hands on a
greasy cloth. “Hami’s getting the new guy settled.” Clarke measured
Nairo with a glance, and apparently the shaman passed. “Heard you
out here. Nairo, I’m Clarke, engineer, and the only reasonable
person aboard the Stealth. I’ll show you to the guest cabin.”

Nairo returned the handshake and followed the engineer.

Both men ignored Kohia.

She snorted. She’d feared her crew wouldn’t share her reservations
about the shaman. To the shifters of Corsairs, he was their Big
Hope.

A few weeks ago, Kohia’s newly discovered shaman cousin, Jaya, had
triggered a shift in a wolf shifter. Vulf Trent hadn’t turned into
an ordinary wolf, but into an inorganic robot wolf.

None of the shifters minded that Vulf had turned into a robot wolf.
They just envied that he could shift and let his animal run free.

Since humanity had been forced to evacuate Earth seven generations
ago, shifters had found themselves unable to shift form. Losing
access to their primal selves hurt their souls in a profound way.
They couldn’t realize their full potential, couldn’t be all that
they were meant to be. That loss had shaped how the shifter clans
established themselves in the galaxy.

About Jenny Schwartz:

Jenny Schwartz was born to write. Her high school yearbook even
predicted she'd become an author! Whether it's paranormal romance,
science fiction or any of the other genres she's written, Jenny's one
non-negotiable point is that there's a happy ending to the story. Her
own happy-ever-after involves living by the sea. Imagine it: walking
from your home, down the beach path to dig your bare toes into the sand,
while you watch whales swim past, and all with a mug of hot coffee in
your hands. Heaven.

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